


A Wolf in Man's Clothing

by CandyCandor



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Smut, Full Moon, Hemophilia, Human, Knotting, M/M, Werewolf, Werewolf Mates, cycles, knotted cocks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2019-08-01 04:23:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16277735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CandyCandor/pseuds/CandyCandor
Summary: Young Miroslav didn’t know what he’d been thinking, inviting a werewolf into his house, but he'd been hurt, and he was charming, and whether he chose to admit it or not, Miro was terribly, achingly lonely.





	1. Light of the Waning Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Something a little self indulgent for myself, please be gentle and enjoy~

Young Miroslav didn’t know what he’d been thinking, inviting a werewolf into his house. 

It’d started innocently enough. An early New England autumn in Point Isabelle, his secluded home awash in the colors of the changing forest surrounding his land. He’d always liked the woods; its silence a comfort and the land abundant. He grew his own vegetables on the earth he’d tilled with his own hands, he lived in the house his mother and father had built. Though he worked in a hospital about twenty minutes out from his little forested home, he didn’t mind the drive, because he had this to come home to. Silence. Comfort. The wilds and all of their secrets. 

Wrapped in a knitted afghan, the white curled twenty-something sat on his porch in the rapidly encroaching autumn darkness, his delicate hands wrapped around his mug of cocoa and his cat Cotton curled in his lap. He looked young; much younger than he really was, much to the disbelief of the patients he treated and his amusement. Miro had always been small; a sickly child, tiny and slow growing, and now as an adult he stood at barely over five-foot-four, wispy limbed and looking more spirit than man. It didn’t bother him, though, not in the slightest, and he didn’t let his illness or stature slow him down. 

Today had been one such day; he’d been going and going, working on pickling and jarring this and that. The last of his garden before the first frost, he had been awake since before the sun, working to get things done. He sighed, sleepy and content, and stroked Cotton’s white fur peacefully. The cat trilled lazily in response, stretching out her leg to rest one small paw on his thigh. Miro smiled. 

He wouldn’t trade this peace for the world. 

It was at that thought, however, that said peace shattered with the sound of a pained, wild-animal howl, high pitched and desperate. It wasn’t too far off, sounded distinctly like a coyote, and Miro was sitting up straight in his chair as Cotton bolted off his lap and into the little house through the cat-flap, tail bushed and ears flat. The little nurse felt his blood run cold when he heard it again, and without another thought was shoving his feet into his muddied shoes, blanket drawn tight around himself like a cloak as he hurried off into the forest to find the poor creature. 

_Really Miro, in the dark, running off to help an injured coyote,_ he thought to himself, but there wasn’t much venom to it. He knew it was dangerous, at the very least, and fatal at the worst. But it was in pain and it needed his help; his bleeding heart and oath to aid in the welfare of those who needed it wouldn’t allow him to just sit idly by as the poor thing continued to cry to the dark. 

Following the sound to the barely knee-high, stacked stone fence that marked the edge of his land, Miro heard the cry again, piercing and desperate, followed by a much more tender sounding whimper. It was nearby, he realized; likely in his neighbor’s land. The old buzzard that lived up the hill; Cooper, the nurse recalled, often set out traps for coyotes but more often than not caught things like baby deer or even worse, stray cats. Though the trap was doing its intended purpose, Miro couldn’t just let the thing die, and he had to get to it before Cooper did. 

He practically jumped out of his skin when the next howl sounded not ten feet from him, and he whipped his head around to find the source. Having to pull out his phone for a light source since it’d gotten so dark so quick, Miro soon found himself face to face with a large, rust colored canine, its hind leg caught in a trap. The nurse smelled the blood before he saw it, metallic and thick in the air, and it was in a puddle that was almost black in the light of his phone. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, the animal watching him with bared fangs. The growl was low, wary, but it didn’t snap at him, didn’t lash out. Yet. 

Miro slowly knelt, heart pounding in his ears as he set the phone down on a nearby stump with the flashlight shining upwards. It wasn’t a lantern, but in combination with the light of the waning moon, it was enough light to work with. “Easy, precious, shhh,” he murmured, voice sweet despite the way it trembled. He took a slow step forward, only flinching a little at the snarl. He kept his stance low, his voice soft, and he was sure not to make eye contact with the poor creature; his mother had taught him how to handle wild animals from a young age, and the last thing he wanted to do was show it aggression. 

“Shhh, that’s it, precious boy, I just want to help you out of that trap. Please hold still for me, okay?” Miro murmured, and surprisingly as he began to shrug off his afghan to cover the creature with, it whined, lowering its head as though it understood. For a moment, the nurse’s heart swelled; animals were so smart and knew when someone had good intentions. He was just glad the coyote didn’t seem interested in biting him anymore. 

“I’m going to cover you with this blanket, okay? Just in case it hurts and you bite at me on accident. I bleed a lot and I wouldn’t be able to make it home, let alone to a hospital…” 

Slowly, so slowly, he draped his blanket over the coyote, who, miraculously, settled down and rested his chin on his front paws, whining slightly. Oh, but the poor thing must be in so much pain… The nurse shifted a little so he could get a better view, and once more he hissed through his teeth; it hadn’t been a snare trap or even one of the padded leg hold ones. No, this had been a steel-jaw, and this coyote would be lucky to ever walk again. He was no vet, and perhaps it was best to just put the poor animal out of its misery, but… 

He couldn’t do that. Wouldn’t do that. 

_Okay. Okay, this is a simple one,_ he thought, spotting the two springs on either side of the trap. He just hoped he’d be heavy enough to depress the springs. Moving slowly, just to be on the safe side, Miro placed one foot on either of the depressors, watching to make sure the animal wasn’t about to jerk and do even more damage. The teeth of the trap had ripped flesh, but his leg didn’t look mangled at least. That thought in mind, the slight nurse put all his weight on the trap and watched as it slowly began to open up. 

“There we go, that’s it, just a little more…” 

Finally, with a creak, the trap was open enough to be free of the coyote’s flesh, and Miro jumped back when it jerked its leg from it with a yelp. It did not, however, bolt away, and the white-haired nurse sighed in relief. 

“Okay, you’re free! I’m going to take my blanket back now, nice and slow.” With that, he reached forward and gently pulled the blanket from the creature. It’d need washed later, but Miro planned on washing his sheets come morning anyway, and he bundled it up in his arms with a pleased smile. A smile that, once realizing the coyote still had it’s humanly intelligent eyes trained on him, waned; he’d not thought this part through. “Um...I’ll leave you be now, okay? I don’t want to scare you, so…” 

Deliberately, he began inching backwards, step by faltering step, until he was able to grab his phone and pick it up. He kept going, the coyote’s eyes never leaving him, until he found himself far enough away that the light of his phone could no longer reach the animal. With a long, relieved sigh, he turned and headed back the way he came. His stone fence, moss covered and in need of repair, was a happy sight, and he passed over it. With the step back onto his own land, the relief he felt in his tiny body was immediate and consuming, leaving him shaking and taking a seat on the rocks behind him. 

He’d really just done that. He’d really just saved a wild animal. 

Gathering his breath and the will to keep moving, he stayed there for indeterminate moments, the sound of nightlife both familiar and haunting to him. As he stood, though, there was a crack, a shuffle of leaves, and Miro spun around. Right away, the luminous, amber eyes of the coyote glowed green in the light of his phone, and the nurse let out a frightened animal sound of his own, falling back. Fortunately, he caught his balance, staring at it as it watched him, silent and ominous. 

Was it following him? Did it plan on ambushing him and had simply been caught…? If so, then why wasn’t it attacking him now? 

“H-hey, precious boy,” he stuttered, lips trembling over the adrenaline-fuelled words. “Are you...following me? Do you need somewhere to go?” 

The coyote’s ear flicked. It blinked. Miro blinked back. It was almost like this animal actually...understood what he was saying on more than a ‘I can scent your intentions’ sort of way, and it was frightening. Still, he thought, he couldn’t just...let it stay. It’d be tracked down by old Cooper in a matter of hours with the way it looked to be limping. 

“Oh...okay, um...I have a shed. Just promise not to eat my cats. Or my hens.” Miro turned, gesturing for the canine to come, and to his absolute amazement, it limped forward. Were it not for his love for animals and the wisdom they possessed, he would have sworn he was losing his mind. 

In a silent stupor, the nurse and the wounded coyote made their way back to Miro’s land, slow and at the animal’s pace. Once there, Miro looped around to the back of his house and opened up his shed, turning on the lantern. It was full of tools; mostly for gardening, but some for home repair as well as an axe for wood chopping. The floor was clean though, and it was insulated from the cold, so Miro lay the afghan down on the floor. Right away, the coyote collapsed onto it, exhausted. The tiny nurse worried his lower lip for a moment before speaking again. 

“Um...I can bring you some water. And I can clean up your leg if you want. Would you let me do that for you?” 

Again, the coyote flicked its ear, closing its eyes with a long dog-sigh that had its cheeks puttering with the breath. In spite of himself, Miro giggled, then cleared his throat. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he said, and slipped out of the shed and into the house. Easily he found a large bowl and filled it with water, grabbing his first aid kit, but he paused in the kitchen once more. What if...it got hungry? He really didn’t want to shelter this animal if it meant Cotton or his hens were in danger… 

After a brief pause, he grabbed a can of tuna from the cabinet, telling himself he’d replenish Cotton’s stock later, and emptied it onto a little plate. Carefully balanced, he made his way back outside and into the shed, still a little stunned to see such a large, beautiful animal waiting there for him. He set the bowl and plate down in front of his guest and took a slow seat next to the injured leg, opening his kit. From the corner of his eye, he watched as the animal leaned forward to take a long, messy drink while he began the process of cleaning up the wounds a little. 

“This might sting. I’ll be gentle.” 

Slowly, Miro worked, and while he did so it dawned on him that it was possible that this might not be a wild animal at all, but someone’s pet. It was too trusting, too intelligent to be wild, and he knew that wolf dogs were becoming more and more common. Once they got too big, too wild, their owners abandoned them in the woods. Was this a case of abandonment? 

Once the wounds were cleaned, Miro looked back over to the coyote...dog, thing, and this time wasn’t as surprised as before when he found himself being watched. Miro chuckled, discarding the bloodied wipes and cotton balls he’d used to clean up, and set aside the bottle of water he’d used to wash away the dried blood and dirt. “You’re awfully smart. And sweet. I don’t think I’ll risk petting you, but it’s enough you know I’m not hurting you.” He lightly dabbed at the animal’s punctures with a peroxide soaked cotton ball, and once he was sure everything was clean, he pulled out a roll of linen bandages, setting to work on that. 

“If you behave yourself, you can stay. I’m sure you’ll leave when you’re ready, but until then I’ll take care of you.” 

He’d have to go buy meat, not eating any of it himself, but that was fine. 

Depositing the used and bloodied materials in the bin nearby, Miro pulled off his gloves and dropped those too, smiling gently at the coyote. The poor thing looked exhausted, eyes half open, and Miro giggled. “Okay. I’m going to go inside. I’ll close the door behind me so nothing can find you, and I’ll be back in the morning to check on you and let you out if you need to.” 

For the third time, the animal’s ear twitched, almost dismissively, and the nurse smiled, nodding. “Goodnight then,” he murmured, and clicked off the lantern, moving to leave. As promised, he closed the door behind him and moved, dumb-struck, into his house.

He’d...really just saved a coyote. And was caring for it. Come morning, he’d have to call a wildlife rehabilitator and hope they could help. They’d know much more about caring for the poor creature in his shed. And if not…

...Well, he had Wi-fi and books, so he had a wealth of information should he need something. 

Once he changed and fell into bed, it was hard for him to get to sleep at first. His mind kept churning, worried about any number of things; it wasn’t until Cotton came and curled up beside his head, purring in his ear, that he was finally able to drift off. Even then, his sleep was fitful and full of dreams, one of a man with eyes like molten amber in the moonlight sitting at the foot of his bed, watching. 

Come morning, he woke with a groan to his alarm, debating on snoozing a while longer since it was his vacation, but the events of the night before came back in a rush and Miro bolted upright, scaring Cotton into a ball of fluff as she darted under the bed. “Sorry!” he said, swinging his legs over the side of his bed to slip into his slippers, “I have to go check on him!” Wrapping up in a robe against the misty morning he could see outside, Miro shuffled out to the shed, hesitating slightly with his hand over the latch. 

Would the coyote lunge at him? Would he be safe? Would he be recognized…? 

Swallowing hard around the anxiety in his throat, Miro slowly unhooked the latch and opened the door with a creak. It was still a little dim out, the sun only just barely beginning to poke through the early morning fog, but what he saw made him gasp sharply, hands flying up over his mouth. There was no coyote here, not anymore; in the place where it had been laying the night before was a man, naked and covered only in the blanket the nurse had laid down. He wanted to scream as the stranger groaned, shifting as he roused, and Miro scrambled back fearfully, mind swirling. 

No. No, this couldn’t be happening, this man had somehow found his home, burst in and set the coyote free--

His eyes fell to the waking man’s leg, though, and he paused, his heart stopping. There, wound with care around his left foot and ankle, were the white linen bandages he’d put on the coyote last night. The nurse’s head spun and he clutched the side of the shed’s door frame like he was about to pass out when the man sat up, blinking tired amber eyes at him. 

“You! You’re a--! Where did..?!” 

There was a pause before the stranger grinned, smile uncurling like a roll of silk, and Miro felt himself flush with heat. “Yeah. Me. I’m the coyote.” His voice was like caramel; warm and soft and irresistibly sweet in his ears, and if Miro had to assign a human face to the coyote from last night, this would have been it. Tanned skin, dark auburn hair, eyes like a predator. 

He clutched at the door, pajama clad knees practically knocking together with the way he was trembling. His mouth opened, he wanted to cry out, but all that came was a squeak of confusion, a mewl of fear. This man couldn’t possibly be a--

“A werewolf. A werewolf that got caught in a trap. Name’s Hayden. Nice to meet you, bright eyes.”


	2. Strangers in the Moonlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We aren’t ghosts, bright eyes,” Hayden smirked, and leaned his elbow on the armrest to prop his jaw on his knuckles. He looked almost amused. “We live beyond the Veil. Sort of a parallel world to yours. We live alongside you, just on a different level of existence."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this chapter took so long to push out. Hopefully everyone interested in it to begin with has hung around!! So here's the second chapter--it's a little world building and a lot of dialogue, but things pick up next chapter, I promise!!

Miro sat in stunned silence in his living room, eyes on the naked man in his arm chair across from him. The clock ticked away the seconds as the stranger, Hayden, sipped on the hot cocoa the nurse had made moments prior. Though Miro was confused, anxious, and scared, the man in his living room swathed only in a knitted blanket seemed anything but; he was relaxed, at ease, and seemed all too happy to let his host stew in silence. Finally, however, Miro could take no more, and as though from far away he heard himself blurting out a question. 

“How are you real?” he asked, and swallowed hard when Hayden looked up from his still steaming mug. Miro shrank back in his chair. The werewolf leaned forward and grinned, elbows on his knees. 

“You know, for living out in the woods of Isabelle Point alone, you don’t know jack shit about it, bright eyes,” he said in that velvety voice, and took another sip of his cocoa before leaning back and smiled at the little huff he heard. “There’s so much more to this place than what you can see.” 

“I’m gathering that,” Miro responded, and if he had a sarcastic bone in his body, his tone would have been dry. “But you didn’t answer my question. How are you real? Why doesn’t the world know you exist?” 

Hayden made a bit of a sound at that, somewhere between a chuff and a growl, deep in his chest. It was a strangely animal sound to come from the body of a human, Miro thought, but he wasn’t able to dwell on it too long before the wolf was speaking again. “You’ve heard of the Fae, haven’t you? The Fair Folk?” 

“You mean like fairies?” 

“Mm. But it’s more than that. It’s an umbrella term you mortals covered us with in an attempt to understand what you couldn’t name. It’s close enough that we don’t mind, but we prefer the term _cethi_. We take any shape you can imagine and more.”

Miro pursed his lips, curling his fingers into his pajama bottoms and shuffling the tips of his slippered toes across the hardwood floor. So everything from fairy tales...were they true? And what did that mean for him? “S-so does that mean you were bitten by another werewolf? Is that true?” 

The creature across from him grinned over his mug, amber eyes sparked with amusement. It made the nurse flush red up to the tips of his ears and look to the floor. “No,” he heard Hayden reply, warm voice holding the faint notes of barely concealed laughter. “No, we aren’t made. We Weres are born. We can turn mortals, if we wish, but only once. It’s usually reserved for our mates. Even then, you wouldn’t be a true werewolf. Not even a _cethi_.” 

That made Miro feel...somewhat better at least, though he was curious what Hayden meant by ‘mates’. He had far more important questions to ask, though, but before he could the man before him held out his mug, and the nurse was on his feet, hurrying to fill it for him. There was a moment where he was confused with himself; why’d he done it without question? Hayden didn’t even say please… Still, he returned with the cocoa in hand and passed it off to the other, returning to his seat. 

“So...so if Fae--I’m sorry, if _cethi_ are spirits, how doesn’t everyone know about them? Can only I see you?” 

“We aren’t ghosts, bright eyes,” Hayden smirked, and leaned his elbow on the armrest to prop his jaw on his knuckles. He looked almost amused. “We live beyond what your fairy tales call the Veil. Sort of a parallel world to yours. We live alongside you, just on a different level of existence. Right now, the Veil is thin, and some of us cross in order to either discover life as a mortal or find our mates.” 

Again, the term piqued Miro’s interest, and he watched the other carefully. Hayden sipped his cocoa and watched him just as evenly with those piercing amber eyes. The nurse looked away, heart fluttering and face burning, but he didn’t hesitate to speak. “So then why are you here? What are you looking for?” 

There was a pause then, silent and full of words unspoken, and it stretched for what felt like minutes. When Miro finally looked back up, he all but shrieked, pressing himself back in the chair and covering his flushed face with his hands; Hayden was standing before him, close enough to touch, to feel the heat radiating from his skin, and he’d shed the afghan covering his nude form. Were Miro not so shocked at the abrupt invasion of his space, he’d have been awed at the werewolf’s body, sculpted so immaculately from bronze and marble, but he was far, far too startled and flustered to even begin processing the sight. 

Hayden grinned, kneeling beside the chair, and leaned in close; Miro could feel his warm breath on his cheek, smell the autumn air that still clung to the man’s skin, and he shivered a bit. 

It wasn’t entirely from fear. 

“I’m here for you,” Hayden all but purred in his ear, and the words made Miro squeak. “You’re special, bright eyes. I’m here to take you home with me.” 

The nurse choked a bit, pulling his hands from his face enough to see the werewolf’s expression; once again, the man was amused, and Miro’s cheeks went hot when he realized that the man was having a go at him. Without thinking, he took a pillow and swung it at the other, flustered; it merely bounced from Hayden’s shoulder harmlessly, however, and the were laughed. 

“You’re too easy to fluster,” he teased, standing and swaying gracefully back over to his chair. “I’m just here to enjoy life on the other side for a while. I’d never take a human so frail as my mate.” 

Indignance flared up in Miro like a wildfire, but he quickly tamped it down beneath his relief. He wasn’t so certain he’d want to be the mate of someone so pompous, anyway. Before he could say as much, though, Hayden was speaking again, expression serious as amber eyes met those of morning glory. 

“To be honest, I’m here because the Veil...shouldn’t be this thin right now. Autumn is normal for it to start the thinning process, but...something’s wrong, and no one will listen to me. It’s so thin there was no resistance when I crossed onto your land. I’m beginning to think that our worlds are merging.” 

Miro paused, blinking; their worlds were...merging? What did that mean? What would it mean? Those questions must have been apparent on his face, because Haden was leaning his chin on his knuckles again, pensive. 

“And that means that we risk war--your kind has never taken kindly to my own. And if not war, a downright purging; I know there are still _cethi_ who...hunger for flesh. Trust me, bright eyes, a merging between the human world and spirit world would not be pretty.” 

The little nurse’s face went pale, and he swallowed hard; he wasn’t certain he wanted to know what Hayden meant about hungering for flesh… Shaking the thought from his mind, Miro leaned forward a little, concerned, and wrung his delicate hands together. In the watery morning light filtering in from the window, it was impossible to miss the fret in his gaze. 

“S-so what do we do? Can I help…?” 

“Help?” Hayden echoed, blinking, then hummed a little, thinking. “I...suppose if I took you across the Veil to the Erl King and told him how you helped me...it might help. But it may also make things worse. It would be a quick trip, but dangerous nonetheless. Think you can help this coyote out again, sweetheart?” 

Miro flushed a little; weren’t there warnings about trusting Fae? Were _cethi_ the same in that regard…? Still, if he could potentially help, even if it was on a small scale, it was the least he could do. If not for Hayden, then himself. After a long moment of thought, Miro nodded, his white curls bouncing and catching light, like a halo.

“I’ll help as best I can, Hayden. Just tell me what to do.”


End file.
